


Strange encounters

by PhoenixVenom



Category: Bleach, Wheel of Time
Genre: i haven't read WoT for a really long time and it'll show, this will have warnings later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:36:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixVenom/pseuds/PhoenixVenom
Summary: After the end of the war, Ichigo disappears off the face of the earth, leaving no clue as to where he may have gone. Months later, he returns, as out of thin air, and refuses to talk about it. At all. All seems well for a while, but those closest to him can't shake the feeling that not all is as it should be. Soon enough, they learn what it is; for the second time in his life, Kurosaki Ichigo is loosing his sprirtual pressure. With how much of it is gone already, it is a wonder no one has noticed before, and everyone is alarmed. That is, almost everyone. Ichigo himself is displaying an unusual amount of calm, having made peace with his situation. He struggles to convince everyone there isn't anything to be done, and is only heard when the last trace of his spiritual pressure whisps into nothingness. Then, finally, he can go back to concentrating on school, and his university applications. But then, what's life without a little disruption?Super long summary makes up for this not being the start of the story.





	Strange encounters

Ichigo looked around him in the sparsely populated street. Since he completely lost his spiritual pressure, his friends from the other side rarely came around, but it still happened some times, even if he could no longer see or hear them, and the only way for him to know if someone was there was if he was pushed. And right now there had definitely been no way anyone he could see was close enough to touch him.  
An irritable tick made its way onto his face despite his best efforts to hold it back. If any of his spiritual friends wanted to talk to him, they could bloody well get a gigai so he could see and hear them.  
He was yanked out of his irritation by a sudden, unseen slap across the face. A _hard_ slap. The ire returned tenfold. 

«Tch. Idiot. You know I can't see you anymore. Go get in a gigai if it's important, or tell Urahara to leave me a message.» The message was delivered with a deepening of his customary scow and responded to with a yank to his jacket. Looking around, Ichigo was clearly getting to the end of his patience. Reaching into a pocket, he produced a small writing block and a ballpoint pen, that he held out in front of him.

«Fine, then, but if you're going to hang around, at least write your name so I know who's there,» he demanded stiffly. His notebook being ripped violently in half was not the response he was expecting. Normally, the few times it had happened before that one of the soul reapers had turned up like this, unannounced, this solution worked quite well. Not today, it seemed. Deciding that arguing with thin air was not something he wanted to do today, Ichigo let out a huffed breath, having made up his mind about whoever was pestering him.

«Can you even understand me? If you do, hold up the pen and click it once.» The pen lifted up into midair, where it made a few turns before clicking furiously for a few seconds. It then suddenly stopped, before making one single click more. Ichigo chose to count that as a yes.

«Okay, stay completely still. Keep holding the pen so I know where you are,» he instructed.

Then, he cleared his mind. Concentrated. He imagined a flame, simple and small, but that consumed all his emotion. Anger. Amusement. Apprehension. Quite a bit of irritation. In the end, all that was left was the flame, and then that, too, disappeared, leaving emptiness. A void where he was floating, cut off from the world, emotion, his own body. Within reach of  _saidin_ . From the thought of doing it to the moment he seized hold of it, only a fragment of a second passed. The next part was the more complicated. Raising both hands in front of him, he started to carefully weave together threads of Spirit, lining it around with Earth, Water, Wind and Fire. When he finished, a transparent square hung in front of him, barely visible but for the changes it made. On the other side stood a man, now visible, with blue hair and eyes, holding a ballpoint pen. Ichigo couldn't quite pin down which one of them looked out of place.

«Grimmjow?» Ichigo asked, staring. It couldn't have been more glaringly obvious how taken off guard he was by the revelation. He hadn't seen the Espada – just arrancar now, he supposed, with Aizen long out of the picture – since before his soul reaper power went away, and he found it was strangely good to see him, though admittedly also aggravating. He was looking at Ichigo with barely contained ire.

“What, you mean that shit about not seeing or hearing me was for real? The fuck happened to you? And what the fuck did you just do to the air? It looks funny.” Slightly startled by the onslaught, Ichigo blinked a couple of times before responding. Irate:

“Of course I meant it, shithead, or I wouldn't say it. And the window I made so I could see who you were, and hear you. It only works in one place, so don't move.” Grimmjow looked incredulous, but stayed where he was. He looked very different, wearing nearly only black, and a whole shirt. And not shouting bloody murder every which way.

“The Hell? That makes no sense at all. If you have no spiritual pressure then you shouldn't be able to do something like this.”

“It isn't spiritual pressure, Grimmjow, it's... something else. You were always better than me at detecting that anyways, can't you tell?” Ichigo asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Tch. Not like I was ever really any good at it, Shinigami.” he said. That got him a rueful smile.

“I'm not really a shinigami anymore, you know. Just human.” Grimmjow gave a derisive snort.

“It's true. If I close this window, I won't be able to see or hear you, any more than any of the other humans on this street.”

 

A knock on his door made Ichigo look up. He rarely got any visitors. After he moved out, most of his social interactions happened at school. It suited him fine. With a quiet sigh he got up and went to open the door. After he had, he took several moments just to stare. Then he just slowly shook his head.

“What- how?” Anything more coherent stubbornly evaded him. Grimmjow just grinned at him.

“Can I come in?” Ichigo mutely stepped aside. Jeans, t-shirt and a hooded jacket looked incongruous on the man, adding to the unreal feeling of the scene. He had no sword. Ichigo had quite a few questions for him, now that he was here.

“You got a gigai?” That had not been one of them.

“Urahara got it for me. Something about it being a 'good challenge', apparently.” The arrancar shrugged, looking around in curiosity.

“You live here?”

“Yes. Why are you here, Grimmjow?” Not that it wasn't actually good to see him – actually _see_ him – but Ichigo was beyond confused. 

“To visit.” There was an unspoken “of course” palpable in the air, which did nothing to alleviate the confusion.

“You... came to visit me?” The tone of his voice was verging between a statement and a question, conveying quite well the scepticism that statement produced. None the less, this was one friend (he _was_ a friend, Ichigo thought, after everything, and despite everything) who had decided on his own to visit him, and had gone for a gigai before the fact. Hell, he even managed to avoid dropping in on exam preparations, which other people had done more than once. He guessed the least he could do was to be hospitable. 

“Huh. Why, though? I mean, it's nice and all, but...” But the two of them never really got along, and the end of the war meant the end of their allegiance. So why the sudden shift from foe to friend? Grimmjow didn't seem to register the scepticism directed at him, or the notion of anything being amiss, but just shrugged before giving his answer.

“Just felt like it. 'S not like I have a whole lot to do off late, anyways.” That statement, at least, caught Ichigo off guard.

“That so?” he asked, curious despite himself.

“You want to talk about that? I'll listen, if that's the case,” he offered, with absolutely no notion of where that topic might lead them.

“Tch. Not much to talk about, really. Things've just been quiet, is all. No one worthwhile to fight.” After saying this, the arrancar cast a sideways glance when he thought the youth wouldn't see. Ichigo, of course, did, but made no sign of it. One thing he had become extremely good at in recent years, was to perfectly conceal all signs of the warrior he had become, so much that the urge to react when normal people were not able to was barely more than an itch at the back of his mind.

“Well, I can't help you with that, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to stay and talk for as long as you like,” he offered, then added: “Would you like some water?” For a second Grimmjow just stared dumbly.

“Uh, sure.” Before the arrancar could muster the focus to ask “what for?”, he was handed the aforementioned glass of water, while Ichigo took a sip of his own. Before either of them knew it, they were sitting across from each other in the living room part of the open plan space that made up most of the one bedroom apartment, each occasionally siping their water, talking. Ichigo, at least, was amazed they actually had so much to talk about, and wondering a bit at Grimmjow's curiosity regarding his own situation. Nevertheless, he was glad to talk. Someone asking because they actually wanted to know was novel, continued interest after he started his tale even more so. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

“How long can you stay in that gigai for?” he asked, making Grimmjow look up from his glass. A thoughtful look crossed his face, before being replaced with a frown.

“I don't know, actually. That Urahara man just told me 'have fun' in that annoying voice he has. You think that's a bad sign?”

“I think you should definitely talk to him about it. With that man, you never really know.”

“Well, if it turns out to be really bad, I probably can't do anything about it anyways,” he shrugged, earning him a raised eyebrow from Ichigo, who had nearly forgone his signature frown in favour of perpetual surprise.

“That angle is... new.”Another shrug followed the first.

“So, how's that window thing you did earlier work, really?” Grimmjow chirped to the room, catching Ichigo completely off guard with the change of topic. The moment it took him to collect his thoughts was enough to make the arrancar grin brilliantly.

“Uh, you mean _saidin_?” he asked before thinking, effectively laying the grounds for hours' worth of explaining and storytelling about his long years away from home and what it had done to him. He didn't go into detail, both because he wasn't comfortable doing so, and because darkness was starting to fall outside. Their parting was awkward, in part because Grimmjow never planned to stay so long, but they agreed they both wanted to repeat the experience in the near future. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm airing this here in the hopes that it will kick my imagination into line so I can get it out of my head right, and maybe work it into a longer story. (I have Plans, but they don't like to leave my head, unfortunately)


End file.
